


and hearts will be glowing (when loved ones are near)

by asideofourown



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Is Trying (Good Omens), Christmas Eve, Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21563197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asideofourown/pseuds/asideofourown
Summary: Their first Christmas together, Aziraphale and Crowley had hardly left each other’s arms, utterly infatuated with each other and the prospects of their newly confessed love.  He had expected their second Christmas together, and every Christmas going forward, would be much the same: they could spend time together without worrying about obligations from their former jobs.So when Crowley dropped by Aziraphale’s bookshop on December third (the first had seemed a tad pushy, and he had had plans on the second to convince some shop owners than black licorice candy canes were all the rage and they shouldn’t even bother to stock normal ones), he had expected the angel to greet him with a mug of cocoa in hand and they could relax by the hearth and enjoy each other’s company for the better part of the month.  What hedidn’texpect was for the bookshop to be closed up tight, lights out and doors locked.[Crowley's December doesn't go exactly as planned]
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 249





	and hearts will be glowing (when loved ones are near)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFnY4yutlaM). Enjoy, and happy holidays if you have anything to celebrate!

The thing was, Crowley didn’t even hate Christmas.

It would probably ruin his reputation in Hell if word got around— it was all but spelt out in the job description to despise everything that glorified God or was supported by Heaven.But Crowley didn’t really hate it.

He didn’t _like_ the holiday season, specifically… the same three peppy carols were far too overplayed on the radios of every department store he ever entered to foment chaos, and everyone was annoyingly cheery and filled with more goodwill than normal, and there were a lot more people liable to be giving out blessings that he had to avoid, but it wasn’t as though he was entirely miserable for the entire month of December.He had invented talking about politics at the Christmas dinner table, after all, an invention that was still quite entertaining several hundred years later.

The only downer was that Heaven absolutely _piled_ work on Aziraphale during the Christmas season, sending him dozens of blessing assignments every week.Crowley had even helped him pick up some of the slack in the past, putting a few anonymous Christmas miracles onto his resume even as he added little devil horns to every unguarded snowman he could find.

But that was back when Aziraphale had been on Heaven’s payroll.And now he _wasn’t,_ not after they had cut ties following the botched Apocalypse.Heaven hadn’t sent word of anything since Crowley had scared them off at Aziraphale’s trial, and it was _wonderful_.

Their first Christmas together, Aziraphale and Crowley had hardly left each other’s arms, utterly infatuated with each other and the prospects of their newly confessed love.He had expected their second Christmas together, and every Christmas going forward, would be much the same: they could spend time together without worrying about obligations from their former jobs.

So when Crowley dropped by Aziraphale’s bookshop on December third (the first had seemed a tad pushy, and he had had plans on the second to convince some shop owners than black licorice candy canes were all the rage and they shouldn’t even bother to stock normal ones), he had expected the angel to greet him with a mug of cocoa in hand and they could relax by the hearth and enjoy each other’s company for the better part of the month.What he _didn’t_ expect was for the bookshop to be closed up tight, lights out and doors locked.

Crowley shuffled his feet on the stoop, frowning at the doors.They knew better than to lock for _him_ , if they wanted to keep their hinges greased.The doors dutifully unlocked, but Crowley didn’t even have to step into the bookshop to tell that Aziraphale wasn’t home.His breath clouded in front of him and he pulled his heavy coat a little tighter around himself with a shiver.

It wasn’t like Aziraphale to just up and leave, not these days anyway.Not after everything that had _happened._

Crowley stepped inside, out of the biting December wind, and let the doors close behind him.“Let there be light,” he mumbled with a sarcastic little smile, snapping his fingers even as the blasphemy made his lips tingle, and the lamp on Aziraphale’s desk clicked on.Crowley sidled over, snooping, as every good demon ought to.Unexpectedly but not unsurprisingly, there was a sheet of paper left out on top of Aziraphale’s current book-binding project addressed to him.

_My dearest Crowley,_

_I’m afraid I’ll be out of London until December twenty fourth, so I won’t be here if you happen to stop by.Feel free to help yourself to any of the alcohol, but do leave the champagne alone— I’m saving it for New Year’s._

_Yours Always,_

_Aziraphale_

Crowley’s lips curled into a small smile in spite of himself, and he folded the note up before putting it into his pocket.He didn’t bother to help himself to any of Aziraphale’s alcohol, not when the angel wasn’t around to drink with him, but now at least he had a date for Aziraphale’s return.He sidled out, taking care to lock the bookshop’s doors behind himself before heading down the street with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Aziraphale was out of town, OK.But _where_?He and Crowley didn’t live together, sure, but more often than not they ended up spending large portions of the week together.Since they had officially started going out more than a year before, Crowley spent more nights at the bookshop than in his own bed.And Aziraphale, in turn, came over to Crowley’s flat more than he ever had before.Crowley had been busy the last few days, sure, but had something really come up so quickly that Aziraphale wouldn’t even call ahead?

Crowley stopped dead in the middle of the pavement as a horrible thought occurred to him— what if Heaven had come calling, what if Aziraphale had been called back to his own head office?He would say so, wouldn’t he?Or try to contact Crowley, if he was in trouble?But he was such a ridiculous, foolish, self-sacrificing bastard, if he thought Crowley might be in danger from Heaven he might not let on that he was in trouble.

“Oi,” someone complained, jostling Crowley as they shoved past him, and Crowley absently cursed an icicle to drip dirty gutter water on their shoes.He took a few deep breaths even as he stepped out of the middle of the pavement to think.

He was being stupid, surely— he and Aziraphale were more on the same page than they had ever been, Aziraphale wouldn’t be a self-sacrificing idiot nowadays.He must have just gotten word of some rare book or another, and left chasing it without thinking to call Crowley before he left.

 _Oh_ , but Crowley could have given him a ride!He would have been more than happy to, half the fun of driving fast was listening to Aziraphale’s fussy complaints about his disregard for traffic laws.

Crowley exhaled slowly, watching as his breath clouded in front of his face and fogged up his sunglasses, and then carefully extended his senses.For just a moment he couldn’t sense Aziraphale’s presence on Earth until he widened his perception past London, and then he caught a glimmer of the angel’s aura up in Scotland.

Crowley blinked in surprise.Aziraphale’s aura flared briefly with unmistakeable Heavenly energy, the type of energy he only gave off when he was performing a blessing, and Crowley withdrew his senses.Evidently, Aziraphale was up in Scotland doing his usual holiday blessing routine— Heaven often sent him all over the world, but they tended to start in the north of the UK.

Had Aziraphale been sent work?Had Heaven forgotten to fear him in the year and a half that had passed?

Crowley scowled.He had done his best, in Aziraphale’s corporation, to dissuade anyone from Heaven from ever contacting his angel again.And now they were apparently back to sending him bloody assignments, when within all rights he was retired—

Crowley stalked back to his car and got in, slamming the door behind him.If Aziraphale was going to be working all December, he could kiss his daydreams of cuddling by the fire and getting tipsy on eggnog goodbye.He was being selfish, sure— Aziraphale was out in the world doing good, spreading cheer in a time that many considered the most cheerful part of the year— but Crowley was _supposed_ to be selfish.

He had hoped that he and Aziraphale could make out under some mistletoe to dissuade customers from coming into the bookshop, or watch a cheesy holiday movie while snuggling under warm blankets, or make fun of Christmas carols (Crowley) while happily singing along in a loud and off-key voice (Aziraphale).

Crowley rested his forehead against the steering wheel of his car and groaned loudly.“Bollocks,” he mumbled, and then started the car and set off back to his own flat.

As he pulled up in front of his building, it occurred to Crowley that he hadn’t exactly left Aziraphale a note in return, despite the fact that it would be obvious he had been in the bookshop.With a snap of his fingers Crowley made a note appear on Aziraphale’s desk back in Soho, just in case the angel somehow managed to get back before the twenty fourth.With that he got out of his car and sulked up to his flat, in a foul mood made only worse by the cheerful carols already playing in the lift.

Crowley huffed a sigh as he let himself into his flat.For Somebody’s sake, he needed a nap.Maybe by the time he woke up, December would be over.

With that thought, Crowley curled up sullenly in his bed and forced himself to go to sleep.

* * *

When Crowley woke up mid-afternoon on December twenty fourth, he was in a more charitable mood. 

He lay in bed and stared at the ceiling for a while after glancing at the date and time on his phone, thinking hard. In hindsight, it wasn’t like he had missed out on much— Aziraphale was always out of town at the holidays, that was how it had always been. Last year had been a lucky fluke, not the start of a new pattern. The year before had been an anomaly, and now things were back to the way they had been before he and Aziraphale had broken off with their sides. 

It would have been stupid for Crowley to expect otherwise, to get his hopes up. If Aziraphale really did manage to come back by the end of the day, at least they might have the last week of the month together. And Crowley’d be blessed if he didn’t make that week as nice as possible for his angel, who was probably just as frustrated as he was about being assigned work all the way up to Christmas from an office he wasn’t supposed to have to answer to anymore. 

Crowley got up out of bed and dressed himself with a snap of his fingers, adding an extra coat and scarf before heading out. He drove to Soho, parking the Bentley outside Aziraphale’s bookshop before popping into the little corner store a few shops down. 

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed as soon as the warm air of the store washed over him, and loosened his scarf. He glanced around, taking stock of what the store had on his vague mental list, and then wandered through the aisles. 

There weren’t any other customers in the store, unsurprising given that it was almost three on Christmas Eve, and the one clerk working at the front watched as Crowley gathered tinsel and strings of lights and even a kitschy little angel decoration he thought Aziraphale would find funny. When he wandered up to the till the clerk blurted, “You’re Mr. Fell’s boyfriend, right? Or, er, partner?” 

Crowley plunked his basket of goodies down on the counter and raised an eyebrow. “Yup.” 

The clerk ran his fingers through his hair and then started to ring Crowley up. “Um, I realize that makes me sound like a stalker,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve just seen you go in and out of his bookshop a lot, and, well, everyone in Soho knows Mr. Fell.” He bit his lip, giving Crowley a cautious look. “Is he doing alright? Haven’t really, ah. Seen him around much lately?” 

Crowley stifled a sigh. “He’s always out of town in December,” he said, and waved a hand vaguely. “Er, family thing.” 

The clerk nodded slightly. “Oh.” 

Crowley stuffed his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet. He felt inexplicably awkward. “I thought it’d be alright to decorate his shop for him,” he mumbled. “Since he didn’t get the chance to yet.” 

The clerk beamed at him. “That’s so nice! And your total is £23.19.” 

Crowley dug his wallet out of his back pocket and handed the clerk his credit card. “It’s really not nice,” he said frankly, and nodded at the tinsel. “Horrible for the environment, that stuff is.” 

“Here’s a biodegradable bag, then,” the clerk said with a laugh, stuffing his Christmas decorations into the bag before handing it to him. 

Crowley wrinkled his nose, considered what Pollution would think of biodegradable bags, and promptly unwrinkled it. “Yeah, OK,” he muttered, taking the bag and stuffing his credit card back into his wallet. “Happy Christmas, or whatever. Even though it can’t be _that_ happy, if you’re working on the twenty fourth.” Crowley he had tried to take credit for capitalism, but Hell hadn’t delivered the commendation yet. 

“I’m getting paid double and I go home in an hour. Happy Christmas,” the clerk replied cheerfully. “And give my best to Mr. Fell, too.” 

Crowley grunted and left the shop with a shiver, his bag swinging slightly in his hand. 

Aziraphale’s bookshop wasn’t quite as warm when he stepped in, but once Crowley flicked on the lights and turned up the thermostat it started to get a little more comfortable. He deposited his pile of Christmas decorations on the table in the back room, and then crossed his arms over his chest as he considered the bookshop. 

Aziraphale was in love with him, but he’d also be furious if Crowley messed up his organizational ‘system’ too much. Crowley could probably work around that, though— he could hang lights off the shelves, and tinsel in his windows, and maybe even miracle up a little tree— 

Crowley put on one of Aziraphale’s records and then set to decorating, humming along as he went and miracling up extra things as he needed them. A little Christmas tree fit perfectly in the window, and Crowley draped it with Christmas lights and a few conjured ornaments. The bookshop felt more festive with some decorations, he had to admit, and over the hour or two he spent putting up things by hand, the record he had been listening to gradually transformed into a few of the carols he could tolerate. 

Crowley was just trying to figure out where to put the angel decoration he had bought in a place that Aziraphale wouldn’t immediately take it down, and contemplating putting the kettle on, when he heard the front door of the bookshop open. 

“Hello?” Aziraphale’s voice called. “Er, if there are burglars in here, I’d like to advise you that I have, ah, an umbrella? Odd burglars, though, decorating…” his voice trailed off thoughtfully, and Crowley grinned. He snapped his fingers and a kettle of water appeared on the quickly warming stove. 

“It’s just me, angel,” he said, sauntering out of the back. 

Aziraphale was standing in the doorway, still in his coat and scarf and brandishing his umbrella. He relaxed when he caught sight of Crowley, and then beamed. “Oh, Crowley, dearest!” he exclaimed happily, and put his umbrella in the stand before fumbling to take off his coat. “I suppose all this is your demonic work?” he asked teasingly, gesturing at the Christmas tree in the window, the decorations hung around the shop. 

Crowley lounged against a bookcase and grinned lazily. “I’m contributing to the increased commercialization of the holiday season, if that could be considered demonic,” he replied. 

Aziraphale hung his coat on the coatrack and then stepped over, cupping his face with chilly fingers. “It’s lovely to see you, dear,” he whispered. 

Crowley’s hands came to rest on Aziraphale’s waist as he straightened, and he leaned in to briefly kiss his partner. “Nice to see you too,” he replied when they parted, and then made a face. “Your lips are cold.” 

Aziraphale gave him a smile that was achingly tender. “I can think of a few ways to warm them up.” 

Crowley snapped his fingers, and a sprig of mistletoe appeared above them. “Oh, yeah?” 

Aziraphale chuckled. “You wily old serpent, you’ve tricked me again,” he said. Crowley kissed him again, and they stayed kissing in the doorway until the kettle began to screech in the kitchen. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale said, pulling away slightly with a bright smile. “Some cocoa would be lovely right now.” 

Crowley took his hand and laced their fingers together. “Thought you might say that,” he replied. 

They headed to the kitchen together and Crowley leaned back against the counter as Aziraphale deftly made two mugs of cocoa. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the alcohol cupboard and topped their mugs off with a grin before following Aziraphale into the back room. They settled together on the couch, and Aziraphale immediately wrapped an arm around Crowley’s shoulders as Crowley snuggled into his side. 

Aziraphale took a sip of his cocoa and admired the shop’s decorations before saying softly, “Thank you for this, dearest. I was expecting to come back to a cold, empty shop, in all honesty, but coming home to find you here—“ 

Crowley stifled a smile and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek. “Thought you might like it,” he said. “It’s bullshit that Heaven’s still sending you work, thought it might, I don’t know… cheer you up.” 

Aziraphale stiffened slightly, and Crowley looked up at him. “Heaven, ah,” Aziraphale said softly. He took another long sip of cocoa. “Heaven didn’t send me any work. I went on my own.” 

Crowley blinked. “You… on your… What?” 

Aziraphale pressed his lips together. “Heaven hasn’t sent me any work since the Apocalypse, but I… I still want to do _good_ , Crowley, I _do._ And I felt so guilty, thinking about going the whole holiday season without doing _anything,_ especially since last year I didn’t do anything— not that I minded, please don’t misunderstand, I was so happy to spend time with you, I just— especially since I didn’t do any miracles last December, so I just…” He sighed. “I should have told you I was going, but I… I was afraid you might convince me to stay. Afraid that _I_ might want too much to stay. I’m already being selfish, coming back here on Christmas Eve rather than New Year’s Eve—“ 

Crowley reached up and pulled him into a gentle kiss. “Angel,” he murmured, resting his forehead against Aziraphale’s. “First, you’re not being selfish, you’ve done more for the world than any of those wankers Upstairs ever have. And obviously, I’m required as a demon to be opposed to good deeds, part of the job description. But I’m also required as your _partner_ to want to see you happy, even… even if that takes you out of my arms for almost a month.” He wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. I’m getting sappy in my old age.” 

Aziraphale smiled at him, so filled with love that it almost made Crowley’s eyes water. “Thank you for understanding, dear,” he said, brushing Crowley’s hair out of his face and kissing him on the forehead. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. “For the record,” he said, his tone a little less gentle, ignoring the way Aziraphale continued to smile. “I think it’s bloody great that you’re being selfish now, I’d rather like to have you around.” 

“So kind,” Aziraphale murmured. 

Crowley huffed, poked his shoulder. “You’re warm, s’all.” 

Aziraphale kissed him, and his lips tasted like chocolate. “Is that so? Poor dear, I’ve left you cold these last few weeks?” 

“Like you said, angel,” Crowley said with a smirk, finishing his cocoa and setting the mug on the table. “You’re chilly, I’m chilly, but there’s plenty of ways we could warm up.” 

Aziraphale smiled back. “Quite,” he agreed. “I’ve got a delightfully warm new quilt upstairs, and perhaps we could order dinner in and find a film to watch.” 

Crowley’s smirk turned fond. “That sounds perfect, angel.” 

Aziraphale cuddled him close again, kissed his cheek. Crowley sighed happily, enjoying his angel’s warmth. Maybe they hadn’t been able to spend time together for most of December, but he and Aziraphale had all the time in the world. Centuries of Christmases together stretched out in front of them, centuries of New Years and Easters and Halloweens and every other holiday under the sun. 

And, really, that was more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I really hope you enjoyed! I'm [here](https://asideofourown.tumblr.com/) if that's something you're into


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